My mother couldn’t cook when she got married. Rather an odd state of affairs in the 50’s but there you have it. The long story about why can be found here in the Legacy of May Honey post. Stories abound in the older cousins about the things my mom made that didn’t turn out.
My parents had a hired man of Scandinavian background. It was before my time but I’ve heard he had a fairly strong accent. Keeping in mind that my mother wasn’t much of a cook this probably came as a surprise to her when he said “by the god yeezys Mrs this is good soup”. I rarely recall my mother ever making soup let alone one that was outstanding. She, on the other hand, loves the soup I make and has often complimented me.
I think of that story often when I make a pot of soup and it turns out to be delicious. I totally get why the owner of a local shop that specializes in soup called her place D’Lish.
Now I’ve a fair hand at making a pot of soup myself. It’s my favourite lunch from Sept to May. I like to keep it varied and interesting and use what is on hand so most weekends turn out a pot full of something. Now that I’m semi retired soup making isn’t restricted to weekends.
I noted last night that the mushrooms were a bit worse for wear so decided cream of mushroom soup was the order of the day. Food processors make quick work of the chopping for a cream soup and soon I had sauteed up onions, celery and the less than stellar mushrooms. A goodly pinch of sea salt is the biggest must in any soup pot. I then made a roux and added chicken stock (which I make and have on hand) and some milk. Into that loveliness I put a small piece of blue cheese, some Romano and a goodly amount of freshly ground black pepper.
While the soup is melding together I am texting with my daughter. She grew up watching me make soup but is just starting to discover the background to a good chicken stock. Little tips like don’t reuse the same veggies in the soup that made the stock. If it’s chicken noodle cook the pasta in its own pot and add to the stock and veggies otherwise it sucks your flavourful stock. I’m pleased to teach her as it’s a great skill to have and she’s got fresh tasty chicken carcasses galore.
It’s a simple pleasure to make your own soup. It’s not really that hard or time consuming but it’s a great feeling to know exactly what’s in the food you are eating. In the current mode around the world this seems like a “nothing important” kind of post but it fills more than just my stomach when I create in the kitchen. Anyone else know that feeling?